Heaven Says Not So
by Dean'sNerdyAngel
Summary: Car accident. Kid!Clark


**A short (I guess) story on a car accident with little Clark. I really hate how I got into Smallville when there was only one season left. LOL. So excuse my 3-10 year late baby!Clark. I just love the Kent family. For any flames about Clark being hurt, Clark is not entirely vulnerable when younger (see episode "Hug" in season 1) and that fact along with the mystery meteor rock (possibly tossed in from the outskirts of the road) can result in lingering damage. Oh, well. It's fanfiction. xD  
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The day Martha and Jonathan found Clark in the cornfield was their miracle day, no matter how many lives had been lost. Despite the spaceship. And the meteors and sadness that followed him. Despite everything, he was their new little boy.

Now Clark was fully settled, and the Kent Farm was a flurry of activity. Jonathan managed the farm with a few farm hands, and Martha took care of the house and Clark.

"Are you excited about meeting Pete tomorrow, Clark?" Martha smiled at her toddler as they flipped through a picture book on the couch.

Clark looked at her and grinned. "Yes."

"What are you going to play with Pete?"

"Twucks," Clark giggled.

"I'm really happy you're excited, Clark," Martha said, hugging him to her. The past few months, it was getting clear that Clark have been deprived of affection for the first 3 years of his life. Most of the time, he clinged to them, anxious that if he took his eyes off of them, they'd disappear. "You'll forget all about us by the time you get there."

Was he feeling like they'd send him away, too? Was he happy?

Overall, Clark seemed excited about his new life.

"No. Mommy n' Daddy imorant. You here foreva" the little boy confirmed, his face dead serious.

"You mean important? Ah. I see," Martha smiled. "I guess you can see the future too, huh?"

Clark giggled as she tickled him, but then let out a wail and scrambled away. He plopped himself onto the floor and under the coffee table, gripping the table leg.

"Oh, Clark, sweetie, what's wrong?" Martha asked, concerned. Had she hurt him in any way?

"I strong. Hurt Mommy," He whimpered.

Martha was once again appalled at his awareness. Yes, he was VERY strong for his age. Something to do with his origins, they supposed. She didn't really know how Clark felt about this, or if he had a conscious knowing that if he squeezed too hard, he would hurt someone.

"Oh, no, sweetheart, you're doing fine." Martha held out her arms, and Clark hesitantly returned to her embrace. "I'm sorry I tickled you. That's a little hard for you to control yourself, isn't it? Mommy's sorry. You're doing a very good job, Clark, and I'm proud of you."

Clark seemed to be satisfied, and snuggled closer to her chest. Martha knew it was time for his nap anyhow, so she continued to rock him in her arms until she was sure he was asleep.

Smiling at her first miracle, she brought him up to his room and laid him down in his bed. Yes, he was hers for a long time to come.

* * *

><p>Martha smiled as he walked into the living room to see Clark sitting in the middle of the floor, playing with his Teddy bear. Her heart warmed when Clark started giggling<strong>. <strong>

"Hey Clarkie, what are you doing?" asked Martha, sitting beside her son.

"Play wif Teddy." said the small boy with a big grin.

Martha's smile widened. "Oh really?"

"Yes." Clark held his fluffy teddy bear up.

Martha leaned down slightly, and kissed the soft dark hair. "You need a haircut, Gizmo," she said, running her fingers through the mass of hair.

"Noooooo," moaned Clark. "Wike my hair, Mommy."

Martha sighed. "Oh alright then."

"My hair um…brown, Mommy," Clark told his mother. He frowned slightly. "It brown?"

"Yes, it's brown, honey. You're getting better at your colors, aren't you? What color are your eyes then?"

"Um…" said the little boy, he frowned, thinking hard. "Um…bloo?"

Martha smiled again. It seemed she was always smiling recently, the little boy never failed to make her happy. "That's right, Clark. Your eyes are blue. Now, are you going to the store with me? We need to get you a new car seat, don't we?"

"Okay. That ofer one bwoked, didn't it, Mommy?"

Well. Clark himself had broken it. But close enough.

"Yes. We'll have to buckle you in with the seatbelt while we drive there, then on the way home you can sit in your brand new car seat."

"Yay!" said Clark in delight. Having his own special seat in the truck obviously excited Clark. "Now, Mommy?"

"Well, it depends if Teddy 's finished his job of making you laugh,"

Clark nodded, and lifted his teddy to face him. "Awe you, Teddy?" He waited a minute, then turned to Martha. "He good, Mommy."

"Good. Now, come on. Let's get you dressed to go out," said Martha, standing. "Come here, sweetie." She walked over to the hallway to get their hats and coats.

Several minutes later, mother and son were prepared, and ready to go out into the cold January weather.

"Brr," said Martha, shivering as she opened the door. Even though the snow was mostly gone, it was still freezing out. She lifted Cark into her arms, and quickly walked outside to the truck, so Clark didn't get too cold. Not that Clark seemed to be affected by the cold at all.

Clark stayed silent as Martha opened the back door on the drivers side, and lowered him onto the backseat.

"Let's get you buckled in," said Martha, leaning over to click the seatbelt in. "We don't want you to slide down the seat, and get hurt, do we?"

"No, Mommy," said Clark, shaking his head, with huge eyes.

Martha smiled at him. "Don't worry, sweetie. You're a strong boy, aren't you? You're not going to get hurt. I would never let that happen."

* * *

><p>Five minutes later, they were on their way to the store.<p>

There was no need for music, Clark was keeping Martha entertained as he told her everything that he saw.

"That awplane, Mommy," said Clark with his head tilted, pointing up at the sky. He was too small to see out of the window properly without his car seat, so the only thing he could see was the sky when he looked up. "Alium."

Martha frowned, looking confused and slightly alarmed. "What do you mean an alien, honey?"

"Dere," said Clark, pointing one of his small fingers at a street light.

Martha took his eyes off the road for a second to see what her son was pointing at. "Clark, that's a tree, not an alien."

"No...not ALIUM. Thing they wide."

"You mean a spaceship, Clark?" Martha smiled. _There's a real spaceship at home, kiddo._

"Yeah, spayship." Clark agreed with a nod. "Cloud…Oh, birdy. They fly, Mommy."

"Really, they do? Would you want to fly?" asked Martha as she turned back to look at her little boy behind her. There was no other cars in sight.

"No. Dat's scary. And I can't flap my wings, 'cause I don't have wings," making Martha laugh.

Clark giggled. "Mommy, you fly?"

Martha smiled mysteriously at Clark, making him grin even wider, before turning back to the front.

Just as she turned around again, a red car suddenly came out of nowhere, and hit the back passenger side of the truck.

Martha's head hit the window, and she lost consciousness.

* * *

><p>Martha woke up with a groan and a sickening feeling just a few seconds later to the sound of someone screaming. <em>Clark.<em>

"Mommy! Mommy! _Ow_! Mommy! OWIE!" yelled Clark.

Martha winced as a sudden pain shot through her back, and slowly opened her eyes. "Clark," Her eyes shot open fully when she heard Clark's high-pitched pain-filled screams.

"Clark, baby? Oh my god." Martha carefully turned in her seat, and what she saw almost made her heart stop.

"Ma..." Clark moaned, his blue eyes fluttering closed. His head lolled limply forward, chin resting on his little chest, his left arm was pressed between the mangled door and his body. Dark red blood was dripping down his little face from the gash on the left side of his forehead where it had connected with the door.

The little boy sat motionless, the front of his coat covered in the blood which slowly dripped from his head.

"CLARK! Oh, Clark, its okay, you're okay, baby," Martha said, trying to keep her panic at bay as she grabbed a spare blanket and placed it on the cut, trying to stop the blood flow. What was she going to do?

She couldn't take him to a hospital. It was far too risky. She listened for sirens. Something. But there wasn't any noise. Obviously whoever had hit them had no care to stop. Her eyes burned in rage.

Yet maybe that was a good thing. She wouldn't be able to hide a screaming, bleeding child from the paramedics or police, nor would she be able to get him home. As for her, she felt gradually uninjured. Her head throbbed painfully, and her body ached, but it looked like Clark took most of the hit.

Fumbling for her cell phone, she quickly called Jonathan. "Jonathan, please answer…"

Clark moaned softly, and Martha could suddenly see the ominous green glow below the seat. When had that gotten there?

"Hello?"

"Jon, its me. There's been a car accident. I'm okay, but Clark's unconscious and bleeding from his head."

"What? Martha, oh my god….What happened?"

"Listen. We can't let doctors check Clark. You need to take Clark, hide him in the truck or something, then call 911."

"Where are you, Martha?" Jonathan asked hurriedly.

"Chandler's Field. Hurry, Jon." Martha said.

"Okay. I'll be there in a minute. Martha, did someone hit you?"

"Yes. Whoever it was, he didn't stop. It hit Clark's side, Jon…"

"He's going to be fine, sweetheart. We're not going to let anything happen to him,"

Shockingly enough, there was still no sound of sirens. Nothing was heard. Not one car passed. The heat of the car was still going, so Martha and Clark were warm for now. She didn't dare try to move the little boy, knowing the dangers of his injury.

She gripped the green rock in the backseat and heard a whimper from Clark. She stroked his cheek in comfort, tossing the rock outside the window.

Almost instantly, Clark roused and began to cry loudly. "Mama!"

"Shh, its okay. Its okay, Clark." she tried to assure him, but he continued to give voice to his pain, piercing cries of distress.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Jonathan pulled up to the fallen track and peered into Martha's side. "Martha?"

"Jonathan, thank God," she breathed. "I'm fine." Martha told him, trying to keep her voice calm as she saw his terrified face.

Jonathan paled when he saw his son. "Hey, buddy," he forced a smile, trying to assure his little boy that he was okay, everything was fine.

"Daddy! Daddyyy!" the toddler sobbed, taking his good arm and reaching out toward him.

"Here, lean back. I won't be able to get that door open from the other side." Jonathan instructed Martha, and she obliged. "Hey, Clarkie, we're gonna make it all better okay? Daddy's here, and so is Mommy."

Clark screamed even louder as Jonathan eased him out. He noticed that Clark's cut and bruised arm was swollen and limp. Not good. Finally, Jonathan lifted his boy into his arms and Clark immediately buried his head into his father's chest, sobbing quietly.

"Jon, you have to clean up the blood." Martha said quickly, glancing at the passenger seat. Her eyes were filled with tears. "Oh, Jonathan, I should have left him home."

"Sweetheart, it wasn't your fault," Jonathan kissed his wife on the cheek. "I'm going to take care of this little guy, and you're going to call 911, let them get you checked out. Then we'll talk,"

Martha smiled weakly at her husband, before turning her attention to her crying son. She gave the bloody blanket to Jonathan, and he used it to wipe up the blood, then throwing it into the other car, grabbing a clean blanket from his car to cover up Clark, pressing against his cut.

Martha leaned over and kissed her baby on his tiny hand. "I'm so sorry, Clark. Daddy's going to take care of you, okay? And then Mommy will come home."

Clark didn't look up, instead letting out a shuddering sob while Jonathan squeezed him tighter.

Martha's heart clenched in guilt. Why had she been so impossibly stupid? She'd guessed Clark would be fine for a short trip to town. He'd never had a serious injury before, or any injury at all, really.

And now he was, and it's all her fault.

* * *

><p>As soon as Jonathan entered the car and started the engine, Clark must've known he was back in a scary car, because he started screaming again.<p>

"Shh, shh," Jonathan soothed as he drove home. Clark cried and screamed the entire drive, trying to get away, but Jonathan held him tight in his lap. There was tears in his own eyes seeing Clark so petrified and hurt.

By the time father and son arrived home, Clark had stopped screaming, and was now once again buried into Jonathan chest, shivering and trying to take the blanket off his head.

Jonathan stopped the car and continued to soothe Clark as he made his way to the house. He decided to give the toddler a quick bath, which would help clean up the blood and dirt that covered him from head to toe.

Clark seemed to feel better as the cool water surrounded him and cleaned him up, but he kept a tight hold of Jonathan's arm as his daddy held a wet washcloth to his head while scrubbing him.

To Jonathan's relief and surprise, the bruises looked a good 3 days old already. The various cuts marking his toddler was were already stitching back together themselves. What worried him was the cut on his head and his supposedly broken arm.

Then Jonathan dressed Clark in his Garfield pajamas, since it was already around 6 PM. No use in another set of clothes. Jonathan quickly tossed the clothes in the hamper, sure he'd never look at that shirt the same way. Then came the complicated part.

"Noo, Daddy! It hurts!" Clark yelled, tears once again spilling from his eyes. Jonathan sighed. Clark had held through the pain of his arm as his father took an Ace bandage and wrapping it around his arm tightly to splint it.

At the accident scene, Clark's left arm looked broken. Jonathan knew the signs of a broken bone by heart; something anyone could expect from a farmer.

Now it looked like a severe sprain. It was bruised very badly but only slightly swollen. As for the cut, it also looked to be several days old, but even that looked pretty fresh. Jonathan obviously didn't have the supplies for stitches, so he used yet another Ace bandage to wrap his head, which took countless tries. Clark kept wriggling and crying, claiming that the cut hurt and his hair was stuck.

Finally, it was over.

"There. All done." Jonathan pronounced. "How do you feel now, buddy? Better?"

"Yes. Better," Clark nodded, using rolled up fists to wipe his eyes.

At that moment, the phone rang. Jonathan was suddenly reminded of Martha. He'd been so occupied with Clark and his injuries he hadn't bothered to call the hospital.

_Stupid, stupid! How could I forget my wife?_

He quickly lifted Clark in his arms and rushed down the stairs, grabbing the phone. "H-hello?"

"Mr. Kent?"

"Abby?" Jonathan asked in shock. "I-I'm sorry. I was expecting a call from Martha-"

"Jonathan, Martha's in the hospital." Judge Ross said, obviously sympathetic about his lack of knowledge of the accident.

Right. He wasn't supposed to know about the accident. He tried to put panic and concern in his voice in that split second.

"What? Who…Is she okay?"

"Yes, she's perfectly fine. She'll be sore for a few days, but nothing rest can't fix. She told me to come pick her up and bring her home. Something about Clark being sick?"

_Of course! She must know that Clark wouldn't be able to handle yet another car ride, and the public can't see him with his injuries without questions. _

"Yeah…yeah, Clark's not feeling too good. Thanks, Abby. Are you on your way?"

"They're discharging her," she paused. "Jonathan, it was a drunk driver."

Jonathan looked at Clark in his arms, who stared at him intently while sucking his thumb. His boy…his wife…had almost been killed by a man who'd been idiotic enough to be out on the road while under the influence of alcohol.

"I'll have you know that he's guaranteed to land on my court calendar," Abby Ross continued. "Anyhow, tell Clark his mom says hi and she's on her way."

Jonathan let out a sigh of relief. That had been a severely close call. Not only Martha and Clark could have been even more seriously injured or killed, but Clark could have been discovered.

"Are you okay, Jonathan?" asked Abby, concerned by his silence.

"Y-yeah. I'm just relieved that…you're sure she's okay?"

"I'm sure. Martha's strong."

"I know she is. I'll see you. Tell her we'll be waiting." Jonathan said, hanging up the phone. He took a deep breath and once again glanced at Clark. "Mommy's coming home, Clark. We're all okay, right, son?"

Clark nodded. "We okay."

"Want to go read a story while we wait for Mommy?" Jonathan asked, and he grinned when Clark lit up a little.

3 stories later, Clark had fallen asleep on Jonathan's lap, and the father sat waiting eagerly for his wife to arrive home. He busied himself with running a hand through Clark's hair, and then realized that he might as well get some kind of dinner.

Gently lifting the little body off him, Jonathan kissed his son on the forehead before settling him on the couch, covering him with a blanket.

In the kitchen, he set the stove and grabbed one of the various pots for cooking. He decided on Mac n' Cheese; they entire family needed some comfort food. Mac n' Cheese always thrilled Clark to pieces, since Martha didn't make it that often because she preferred to cook a full meal.

Now that he was waiting for the water to boil, he had nothing to distract him from Martha's homecoming…or his thoughts. Whenever he blinked, he saw Clark's terrified, bloody face in the truck.

What if this had been the end? He'd only just barely settled in to parenthood; he obviously wasn't the perfect father, but was anyone? He loved Clark as much as he loved Martha, both of them were his entire life. This morning, he'd had everything he'd ever needed in life: a wonderful wife, an energetic child, and his farm.

He shook all negative thoughts away.

Martha and Clark were still here, with him, as they would be for a long time.

FIN.

**Let me know, you guys, if you want an epilogue. Seriously. I don't want to write more if no one enjoying it. D:**


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